PART 2
Merrick’s mystery started unraveling three mornings later. After another brutal tennis match, I collapsed against the fence and announced that if he wanted me alive for tomorrow’s humiliation session, he owed me breakfast. “You’re paying,” I added automatically. He stared at me. “Why would you assume that?” I shrugged. Nolan had trained me well. For three years, I had bought his coffee, lunches, birthday gifts, concert tickets, and half the gas for road trips I had not even wanted to take. Merrick’s expression darkened when I admitted that. “First breakfast with me, and you thought I’d make you pay?” he asked. “That’s depressing.” He took me to a tiny diner behind campus where he ordered enough food for both of us and insisted I get whatever I wanted. While I demolished pancakes, eggs, and half his bacon, professors kept stopping by our table. Merrick greeted every one of them by name. “Professor Danner, how’s your shoulder?” “Dr. Wren, your daughter get into med school?” By the fifth person, I narrowed my eyes. “Who exactly are you?” He smiled around his coffee. “A concerned citizen.” Then a familiar voice came from behind me. “Merrick, your mother has been asking whether you remember we still exist.” I nearly dropped my fork. University President Corbin Hale stood beside our table. Merrick calmly handed him a paper bag. “Breakfast.” President Hale looked at the bag, then at me, then back at his son. His son. I pointed between them like an idiot. “You’re his son?” Merrick smiled. “You never asked the right question.”
President Hale invited me to dinner that weekend before I had recovered from the revelation. I tried to refuse politely. He said, “Hadley, you’re applying to Ridgemont’s graduate program, correct? A social sciences student should understand the importance of maintaining professional relationships.” It sounded suspiciously like a threat delivered with excellent manners. I agreed. Before I could escape, Nolan appeared with Sabrina on his arm. He looked at the breakfast bag in my hands. “Perfect. I haven’t eaten. Give me that.” For one horrible second, muscle memory almost made me obey. Then I pulled the bag behind my back. “Buy your own breakfast.” Nolan blinked. “You used to bring me food every morning.” “Exactly. Four years of free service just ended.” Sabrina’s expression tightened. Merrick’s hand rested casually on my shoulder, which made Nolan notice him for the first time. “Who’s this?” Nolan asked. “Someone who knows how restaurants work,” I said. “You order food, then you pay for it.” Nolan flushed. “Hadley, don’t be petty.” I smiled. “I’m not petty. I’m finally keeping receipts.” Merrick actually laughed. I grabbed his hand and walked away before Nolan could answer. Only when we reached the next building did I realize I was still holding Merrick’s hand. He glanced down. “Protecting your property?” “Don’t flatter yourself.” “Too late.”
That night Nolan called from a number I had not blocked yet. “Who is that guy?” he demanded. “Why do you care?” “Because you’re letting some random man put his hands on you two weeks after we broke up.” I laughed so hard I had to sit down. “You dumped me in the morning and carried Sabrina across campus before lunch.” “That’s different.” “Of course it is. Everything is different when you’re the one doing it.” He accused me of being desperate for attention. I told him he no longer had voting rights in my life and blocked the number. The next morning, he waited outside the athletic center. When I tried to walk past, he grabbed my wrist. “Hadley, stop acting like I never mattered.” Before I could wrench free, Merrick’s voice cut across the sidewalk. “Take your hand off her.” Nolan turned. “This is between me and my girlfriend.” Merrick raised one eyebrow. “Interesting. I thought your girlfriend was the woman you’ve been attached to all week.” Nolan’s grip loosened. Then Merrick added, completely calm, “Hadley is with me now.” I nearly choked. Nolan looked at me as if I had betrayed him. “Seriously?” I yanked my wrist free. “You don’t get to dump me and then act offended because I didn’t remain emotionally unemployed.” Nolan walked away furious. I turned on Merrick. “Your girlfriend?” He grinned. “You’re welcome.” “That rescue is going to cost you.” “Good. You already owe me nine breakfasts.”
By Friday, my roommate, Maren, had developed a theory. “He likes you.” I denied it. She listed evidence: morning tennis, breakfast, defending me, remembering my schedule, introducing me as his girlfriend without hesitation. “Either he likes you,” she said, “or he’s running a very inefficient charity.” That afternoon Merrick called while I was shopping downtown. “Turn around.” I did and found him twenty feet away in a charcoal suit, looking nothing like the sarcastic man who bullied me around tennis courts. “Why are you dressed like that?” “Work.” He led me outside to a sleek luxury sedan. I stared at it. “Your father’s university salary cannot explain this.” Merrick laughed. “My father didn’t buy it.” “Then who did?” “I did.” He drove me to a glass office building ten minutes from campus. Employees greeted him with a respect that immediately erased every stupid theory in my head. On the seventh floor, the lobby wall displayed the name of a technology analytics company I had read about in business magazines. Merrick’s company. His office overlooked the city. I slowly turned toward him. “You’re not just the president’s son.” “No.” “You run this place?” “Yes.” “You let me accuse you of living off your father.” “It was entertaining.” I covered my face. “I’m transferring universities.” He pulled my hands down, laughing. “Absolutely not.”
That evening he took me to his parents’ home for dinner. President Hale’s wife, Celeste, hugged me before I could figure out what level of formality was appropriate. Dinner was warm, loud, and surprisingly normal. President Hale teased Merrick about never bringing women home. Celeste asked about my graduate-school plans. I admitted that Ridgemont’s program accepted only a handful of students each year and that I was terrified of the interview. “No favors,” President Hale warned immediately. “If anything, I’ll grade you harder for knowing my son.” “Then I regret coming,” I muttered. Celeste laughed. Merrick looked at me with that irritating half-smile. Then his father asked, “Are you two ever going to admit what this is?” I froze. Merrick did too. President Hale leaned back. “You’ve been circling each other long enough.” Merrick looked directly at me. For once, there was no joke in his eyes. “Hadley, would you actually like to be my girlfriend?” My heart slammed against my ribs. I should have hesitated. Instead I said, “You’re attractive, successful, funny when you’re not annoying, and your mother already fed me pie. I’d be an idiot to say no.” Celeste covered a laugh. Merrick shook his head. “Romantic.” I leaned closer. “Fine. Yes.” His expression softened. Then he said quietly, “Good. Because I’ve wanted to ask you that for a lot longer than you realize.”
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